Say Uncle
by Flying Semprini
Summary: Even tyrants have unwanted relatives. Robotnik makes an unlikely alliance in order to rid himself of his eccentric uncle. I went for a slightly AoStH aka a bit silly feel for this one, so some parts aren't as realistic. Tame enough for most.
1. House Call

"Harrumph! Enough about my story. Might I ask what the deuce are you, then?"  
  
"If you must know, I'm the Great Robotnik's new second-in-command." The naturally cool robot bird was more than boggled at the sudden arrival of his rotund guest. Despite what this fellow insisted, Robotnik hadn't said a word about a relative visiting - at least nothing in the bird's memory banks. The guy wasn't even the least bit afraid in this environment, either - highly irregular of most of the Maker's guests. He'd just driven up to the front door of the main control tower, stood impatiently in front of the portal, and caught the robot as he headed back inside from an errand. From here, he had proceeded to explain several grand-sounding adventures that had occurred on his way over here.  
  
And Cluck had timed out waiting for the patience command that was to override his default output.  
  
"If you don't surrender yourself, I'll be forced to -"  
  
"Is that so? Hah hah. What a charming, albeit freakish, lad. Youthful flights of fancy never cease to amuse me, even in these dire streets. I suppose I won't mind your presence, then, boy; my bags shall await you in my transport."  
  
"Wha-what?! You dare speak to me like that? I'll have you know that the Great Robotnik has placed me as his second-in-command now that Snively has betrayed us! That means I'm going to have control of about a fifth of the whole world at my fingertips someday! I'll do no such thing!"  
  
The stranger's eye units narrowed. "Listen, my ferromagnetic friend, I don't care a trifle about just how much of this fine orb we live on you are in control of! Your naïveté has transcended its limits and I strongly suggest you do as you are told."  
  
None of this input would comply. "Carry your own bags, you pompous blowhard!" This turned out to be a mistake, as a backhand caught him across his stainless steel beak, causing his head to rotate once fully around his neck, in a manner not unlike certain cartoons he'd input into his ROM when the Master wasn't looking.  
  
"Of all the impudent...brrrruff!! It baffles me that Julian tolerates a squawky little upstart such as yourself! My bags! " The rooster, finally deciding that it would be best to humor this gent, threw up his wings in disgust and clanked towards the hovering transport to get the aforementioned baggage.  
  
The other individual, still ruffled, continued to mumble to himself. "Bother. I haven't seen one shred of life around here yet, aside from that walking suit of armor. Possibly the most deplorable living quarters I've ever seen. Pbbrrumph! Julian is going to get an earful when I find him." The muttering did not cease as the grunting robotic chicken struggled under the weight of luggage and proceeded ahead of him.  
  
"Say! What's your name, boy? Didn't chance to ask yet." Now the gent seemed to have completely and instantly forgotten his grievances towards him. His behavior simply didn't compute. Rather than endure another blow to his chassis, he responded as commanded.  
  
"Urff...Cluck."  
  
"I asked for an answer, not a mechanical sound! Your name!"  
  
"No, Cluck is my name, ungh, sir."  
  
"Oh! Really. Quite interesting, if a bit generic."  
  
"I didn't pick it. Umpf...there's a door up ahead - could you please get it, sir?"  
  
"Aren't there supposed to be doors built in here? Your employer is supposed to be enough of a genius to take care of such things, at least from how I've known him. Very well." The man proceeded ahead and found the door, prying it open with his bare hands. "Rather bulky doors, if you ask me."  
  
Cluck did not recall that he asked him. "There was supposed to be a switch. I think you might have broken it."  
  
"Pishtosh! Portals are meant to be opened manually. When I was your age - that is if you have an age, being of a technological nature and such - I opened far heavier doors than these, and if I didn't, father would scold us full sore!"  
  
And thus Cluck was now doomed to not only the physical heaviness of the bags but also a long, worthless input about the good old days. Slowly, he agonized towards the elevator that would take him upstairs so that the Master could deal with this character. 


	2. Joyful Reunion

It had been an unusually slow day. No new prisoners, none stolen by that hedgehog, no problems or progress to be dealt with at all. And no Snively, either. Robotnik had resorted to simply staring at the security monitors himself while he sent his newly built robotic cohort to perform some routine checks on a few munitions factories.  
  
He never thought that his nephew would have the gumption to free a certain genetically altered and physically remodified beast, the pinnacle of one of his labors over the years, from its doom after something in one of its modifications had broken Robotnik's control over it. From time to time, he still fumed about the memory.  
  
The hedgehog, his failed project, and quite a few other important figures in the treason movement were all sitting there, trapped and ready for destruction, and then that little worm overrode a door function from wherever he was and disappeared thence. It had been arguably a giant setback in his plans for complete domination and immortality. He'd find Snively someday, and prepare an especially gruesome vengeance for him.  
  
Well, at the very least, there weren't any relatives around to frustrate him at the moment.  
  
"Master, I've - oof - returned," the elevator intercom suddenly buzzed.  
  
"Very good, Cluck. You seem a bit burdened - is there a problem?"  
  
"Oof...nothing I can't handle, sir."  
  
Very efficient and perhaps commendable, this Cluck that he'd built a couple months ago. He was obedient to perfection at any task that Robotnik gave him to do. Painstakingly programming his circuits to be loyal to his maker had paid off; not a hint of insubordination ever existed at any time since he was turned on.  
  
There were, of course, drawbacks. As a servant robot, Cluck probably wouldn't be able to contest against the hedgehog or the other rodents should he run into them someday. Also, he tended to be overly puckish at times.  
  
"By Jove! What is that gizmo you're talking into?" the intercom buzzed unexpectedly.  
  
What...? Cluck appeared to have picked up a guest. But that was ridiculous. Cluck wasn't supposed to be able to capture anybody on his own yet. Who would just waltz in here to his doom -  
  
Oh no. It couldn't be. There was no way he could get here -  
  
"Excuse me, sir, the intercom is for business only - " he heard Cluck begin desperately.  
  
"Indeed it is - family business! Julian? It's me, your uncle, here for an extended visit from abroad!"  
  
Just perfect. Robotnik's uncle was supposed to be exiled on that island, way out in the ocean, where he could be eccentric and go hunting without bothering anybody else. Now, he was mere seconds away, having decided to cross over half the planet, probably on a whim. The entire idea was for him to stay there and not be in the way.  
  
Desperate times called for desperate measures. He held his nose and did his best impersonation of a secretary that he could think of.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, Mr. Kintobor isn't here to see you. He stepped out to check on his, ahh, campaign. Overseas. For - ah - a really long time. We also don't have any documents or notices mentioning your arrival. Might I ask what your name is, sir?"  
  
The voice on the other end was guffawing.  
  
"Oh, Julian, your wit seems to have grown from nothing to be as sharp as that brain of yours! But there's no fooling your uncle, Sir Walter Eggery, Royal Game Warden of His Majesty King Acorn, not as long as he can bring down the fiercest consciousless beast on the planet in parts unknown to civilization! Don't mind if I toot my own horn, begging your pardons and all."  
  
Robotnik groaned. "Aw, come on, sir, did you have to drop in now?" The greeting belied the exact specific problem he had with this particular relative of his. Every single time he'd dealt with his uncle in his past, he was forced to trade in his true appearance as the brilliant scientist he was for the façade of a placating buffoon.  
  
"Hah hah, I can sense your joyful sentiment, my boy." Nope, he wasn't listening. "I'll be up shortly and then we'll have a nice long chat about yours and mine recent escapades. But not before we discuss your dreadful living quarters. What blasted floor is he on anyways?" Sir Walter barked back at the unfortunate robot.  
  
"We're almost there," Cluck panted.  
  
Oh, wasn't that perfect hindsight. Of all the great inventions that his mind had concocted to accelerate his conquest of the world, not one of them involved an escape route or a place to hide. There had been no need - no enemy, not even the rodents, was powerful enough to breach all of his defenses and reach this place. And he wasn't exactly the most mobile person either. Where to go, where to go?  
  
The elevator floorbell dinged painfully.  
  
"Ah, splendid. Onward!" No longer was the intercom necessary, for in staggered Cluck, beset by about five extremely heavy-looking bags, and behind him came a spitting image of Robotnik, only with a slightly trimmer figure, a pith helmet and explorer's garb, and the trademark monocle and a white handlebar moustache.  
  
"Cordial salutations, lad!" he exclaimed gleefully as he strode to a paralyzed Ivo and grabbed him in a bear hug. "It's been ages since I've last seen you! How have you been?"  
  
"Uhhh...can I put these down? Please?" Cluck's knees were vibrating back and forth under the effort.  
  
"Yes, yes, of course. Anywhere is fine." The AI bird gratefully loosened his grip on the tonnage and grew about six inches as it all crashed to the ground about him. "Careful, you nincompoop! Many fine goods are in there that I don't want damaged." He reached in his pocket, pulled out a coin of the obsolete Mobian currency - probably still in use on the island he'd come back from - and flipped it to the bird, who stalked off, evidently insulted by his recruitment as a bellhop. "There you are, and I daresay you didn't earn it. Now," he said as he turned back to his nephew, "let's have a look at you. My, you've grown - ehrrm. In more ways than one, I might say."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Robotnik replied through a clenched smile. As much as his uncle got on his nerves, it would be a completely lost cause should he try to tell the man off.  
  
"It doesn't appear you've been eating too well. What, may I ask, have the Acorn family been feeding you?" Yipes. It was definitely time to conceive of a bald-faced whopper of a story. Sir Walter had been sent to that island of humans right after he'd performed his coup of their kingdom, so that he'd be out of the way and yet still alive. Not because he loved him, even though he did, sort of, a little bit. More like he feared him with every bit of his cold, calculating soul.  
  
"I've managed. The fare is standard and quite delicious, actually."  
  
"Well, I can see you wearing that belief with my own eyes!" Robotnik attempted a telepathic message to quit commenting on his weight, and then decided to change the subject.  
  
"How did you get back here, sir?"  
  
"Oh, it's a long and excellent tale, which I'll tell you all about later this evening. Let's just for now say that the people of that fantastic island you sent me to for an expedition agreed unanimously to send me to another hunting ground, the people of which followed suit, et cetera, et cetera, and thus the story will be an epic."  
  
Robotnik stifled a scream and then considered this statement. It probably really meant his uncle managed to get on the nerves of everyone in the world that was rightfully his. Well, at least his ability to bore and irritate simultaneously helped decrease the morale for future invasions. Now if he could have only shot a few rodents while he was at it.  
  
"How have Their Highnesses been, anyways? And how is that darling little boy and girl of theirs? Is one the reigning monarch yet? Nothing against old Max and Alicia, of course, I hope they're both still in wondrous health."  
  
"Uh...they're just fine." By Robotnik's definitions, they were, anyways.  
  
"Music to these old ears. Now, might I ask where everybody has vacated to, not to mention why this burg is such a desolate dump?"  
  
"They've, er...." Time to think fast. "They've entrusted all of Robo - I mean, Mobotropolis to me while they've relocated their capital elsewhere." He'd almost had to spit out the old name of the city.  
  
"Is that so. I daresay they've given you the raw end of the bargain. This city is nothing as I remembered it. Back in the day, the citizens would stop and greet you with a smile, and a nice meal over at the Grand Max cost mere pennies. Nowadays, I don't see the Grand Max, or citizens for that matter. Has something happened?" A sound of genuine concern, not often or easily obtained from the ineffable personality, now floated in his voice.  
  
"Yes, well, uh...a massive famine had hit the city and so the townspeople decided to leave it and move out into a plain. Beyond the Great Forest, where you can't see them, on the other side from here. That's where they all are, back in an agricultural society, and that's where the Acorns are ruling from." How it pained him to say all this, but there was no way his uncle would not smite him beyond recovery for the truth of things. "Here now it's mostly an industrial and weapons site. I remain here alone to run it." This story was getting more and more complicated, never mind stupid, but hopefully the old man was senile enough to buy it. He was none the wiser as of yet, anyways.  
  
"In my opinion, a bloody outrage! I demand to talk to old Max myself, right here and now, Julian! It'll be an expedition tomorrow, and then I'll give him an earful about this eyesore, sure as my name is..."  
  
"Don't worry yourself, my dear uncle! I've agreed to this. It's perfectly fine."  
  
"Hrumph. Are you certain about this?" The nephew nodded eagerly at the elder's question. "Well, you were always the quiet one. Frankly, I'm still confounded by your antisocial behavior after all these years. But you're a fully grown man now, and I suppose there's no dissuading such foolishness." These normally chagrining words allowed Robotnik to breathe a sigh of relief this time. At least when it counted, his uncle wouldn't start prying too far into his affairs like he'd always done.  
  
Sir Walter's next musings made him wish he hadn't thought those words so soon.  
  
"Still...sounds as if it's awfully lonesome. Fear not, I know exactly how to fix that. Julian, my boy, I've decided to retire from my explorations and let nature renew itself. From now on, I'm going to be staying here permanently and keep you company!"  
  
The Eggman's jaw dropped.  
  
"My dear boy, I know you're absolutely enthralled to have your good old uncle back!"  
  
Oh, sure. Robotnik wanted to puke. Not only from the obvious problems, either. It was only a matter of time before the one man he "respected" found out the truth. 


	3. Friendly Proposition

"And there, in the savage forests, I encountered the great spotted Afinogenov's wiggly toad. He was a ferocious fellow, and took my party by surprise. The blighter well nigh digested one of my boots before I was able to get a shot off. But I got him, right as rain and without any pain. Clean and merciful, that's how I like to bag my quarry, if it's at all possible. Oh, the delightful savagery, Julian. I strongly urge you to safari, it's quite invigorating."  
  
Robotnik had taken to automatically nodding every twenty seconds. He kept himself awake by biting his lip and thinking about several creative ways of dispatching Snively and the hedgehog. Uncle Walter just never shut up about his hunting trips. Of course the animals he hunted were rather formidable, as there were still a few unsettled regions of that island. It was just that Ivo really, really didn't care to hear about it.  
  
"Then, of course, was the dreaded Sbadovian half-crested wombat. Even the bravest of the brave, and good friends of mine, Sir George Eisherdeisher the Third and J. Leonard Muxbury, Esquire of course, refused to track such a creature. Quite simply, it was the fiercest creature I ever encountered in all my years of exploration."  
  
"You don't say." You don't speak, was more what he'd wanted to demand but couldn't. About every third animal just happened to be the fiercest creature that Sir Walter had ever encountered in all his years of exhalation of these tales. He'd probably haunt Robotnik as a ghost just to persist in the pomposity.  
  
"That rascal had fangs large enough to cut through the largest tree trunk in any jungle in the world! I distinctly remember him coming at my jugular with a horrifically high leap, defiant of the laws of physiology! Or physics, or whatever that field of the sciences might be, if I do dare muse on such things. That would more or less be the area you take up anyways, overly large as it is." His voice decreased in volume over this last sentence as his mind floated off on this tangent. "Where was I? Oh, yes, the wombat. Harrumph!" The sudden crescendo indicated his snapping back to the story at hand, as it always did when it didn't mean he was irritated at something.  
  
There was no rebuking this uncle of his, however. The strict windbag would always override or berate him whenever he had tried as a child, as he was used to simply bulling his way towards any goals he set, out of the blue more often than not. This was the one man Robotnik could not strike at. He was simply too large of a personality. The lingering respect and fear for this man would be sufficient to keep him safe from any attempt possibly made on his life.  
  
"Well, the little bugger came at my neck, and I was barely able to get my forearm up in time to deflect the blow. His canine teeth were so large, they couldn't get around me arm or even bite it. Huh hah! Evolution, indeed. If you ask me, God has a sense of humor creating some of these lower beasts. Anyhow. After knocking him away, I had my blunderbuss all set to do that wombat in as he scampered off, but the rascal had put up such a fight, it dawned on me that he should live for another day..."  
  
He remembered half-snoozing through such lectures as a child, when the man would prattle on and on about such wild beasts every time he came to visit. There were plenty of species he'd killed and made into trophies, all of them animals without any soul that lacked the intelligence speak or move or pretend to be humans like those Knothole brats. Robotnik would rather face a billion of them right now...  
  
A rude alarm sound shoved its way into his thoughts, accompanied by Cluck's metallic voice over the intercom.  
  
"Sir! Hedgehog, priority one! Located in sector six!"  
  
"Set the standard full security alert," Robotnik fired back into the intercom. Absolutely impeccable timing. He sometimes wondered if his sheer intellect emitted mind waves that enabled the rodent to hear what he was thinking and know exactly the most opportune time to strike. Perhaps a useful experiment to look into.  
  
"Brrupf! Of all the nerve, interrupting family conversations."  
  
"Uh, it's the hedgehog, sir. He's a deep threat to all of my plans, for, um, King Acorn's work for me."  
  
"Hedgehog, my dear lad? What in the world causes you to drum out the entire Fifth Brigade for one person?"  
  
Robotnik didn't even feel like reciting all the ways that the rebel had been a thorn in his side, much less figuring out a lie for it all. And now his uncle stared at him expectantly, and would reprimand him for not answering in three, two, one -  
  
"Come, now, boy! Speak when you're spoken to and all that. There's more than one side to that equation." Like a clock. There had to be something he could do -  
  
Well. It really, really wasn't what he wanted to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Who knew, it might hurt his mortal enemy in some way he couldn't even fathom.  
  
"He's a family friend, sir. The nephew of Sir Charles Hedgehog. Coming back from abroad, uh, and we just want to make sure the army with him is indeed ours and not, er, the enemy's." Rats. Now he'd have to explain all of that.  
  
"Indeed. That's quite a big show. How is Sir Charles, anyway?"  
  
"Deceased, I'm afraid." Close enough. "I forget the younger Hedgehog's name, offhand; it's been so long."  
  
"Terribly sorry to hear of it. So, shall there be a ceremony for the younger Hedgehog's safe return?"  
  
"Well, uh..." No, no, no. It would all go to pieces if the two actually met...or would it? "...as a matter of fact, certainly. King Acorn is unfortunately out of town at the moment, and so it's left to me to greet him and his army. I am the Secretary of War, you know." So far, so good. "In fact, I ought to meet him myself before introducing you to him." Yes, both the blasted rodent and his uncle had those worrisome convictions known as morals. They'd be best buddies, and out of Robotnik's face, hopefully for a long time.  
  
"Ah. I see. Well, well, I ought to let you hail this fine young chap. I must say, I shall be delighted to meet him. He was only a little tyke when I last saw him, but every bit the strong, good fellow I imagined him to be. And let me tell you, a word of warning, Julian, some of these politicians are more than willing to do anything, and I mean anything, to achieve their own selfish goals. Don't let them stand in your way, young lad. Why, I remember the days of yore when I had to weed my way through the most flippantly filibustering fops I've ever seen."  
  
"Yes, sir, I'm aware of it, sir," Robotnik cut in, preventing Sir Walter from going further. What a nuisance. Preventing a frown from etching itself upon his lips, Robotnik shook hands formally, yet a bit vigorously for his liking, and proceeded to the control room.  
  
***************  
  
"Heh, toast." That last SWATbot to fall by Sonic's acrobatics also happened to just barely fulfill his quota for the day. Sonic really hadn't come here on a mission today, except to check in on Uncle Chuck and make sure there wasn't anything too dastardly going on in 'Buttnik's brain. He'd even brought Tails along for the ride to have a little fun with his mechanical skills. Sonic had taken care to pick a factory where his little bro could hide and do stuff without being spotted.  
  
There really hadn't been much to report, except that an individual had turned himself in this morning claiming to be a relative of Robotnik's. That wasn't a very smart idea, whomever it was. Robotnik would probably be out to get rid of anybody related to him, especially since Snively had defected to the Freedom Fighters. Uncle Chuck hadn't seen any prisoners in the cells with the computer doohickey scan. Robotnik had taken care of him by now. It was a bit of a bummer to jet out of here on.  
  
Now, was there one of those stupid flying spycams around? One good razz to the Eggman was always a nice note to get out of here on. Usually, in this quaintly dilapidated section of town, a bunch of them flew around aimlessly, and one of them had probably already seen him, else the SWATs wouldn't have come bothering him.  
  
"Hey, buzzards! Come over here and say hi!" he yelled out, not really caring if it meant more SWATbots. He was jetting out of here regardless. Weird...the spycams were kinda slow on the uptake today. Sonic stood for a bit, tapping his toe.  
  
Finally, one toddled its way around a corner, caught his attention, and swept in as if it was indeed interested in a piece of advice he had to give it. Yeah, like 'Get a life and stop following people,' was the advice he'd give it. Heh, that was one he'd save for the Knothole gang. It was too hilarious.  
  
"Looks like you're slacking off! I didn't even break a sweat on you today, maybe you'll just have to get off your tubby butt and get me yourself!"  
  
"Listen to me, fool. My wish was not to kill you or even harm you, not today at least. On the contrary, rodent...I have a proposition," buzzed the spycam, relaying its owner's words with an intercom. Odd - he sounded a little less angry with him today. In fact, there really wasn't a whole lot of malice at all behind the message.  
  
"Oh, yeah? What's that?" he asked back, wary of a sneak attack of some sort and figuring that maybe 'Buttnik had finally figured out a good comeback to throw at him.  
  
"Well...it's rather hard to describe in words. I have a problem, and I think you might be interested in, er...*cough* a bit of an alliance. A temporary truce, if you will." A few nasty seconds past. "Helping me with this, you idiot, that's what I mean." What was this guy doing, asking for help on homework or something? "If you'd be willing to help out, I'm willing to reach an agreement with you to give you anything you wish - within reason, of course."  
  
"...Riiiight. And the Tooth Fairy likes giving out Christmas presents. What the crud are you talking about?"  
  
"You have no idea, hedgehog," the spycam blurted. "Have you ever had someone drop in that you can't stand in the least and you just want desperately to get rid of them?"  
  
"Well, not really, but you've made it totally clear to me over the past ten years that you do."  
  
"No, you nitwit, that's not what I meant. More like someone of importance."  
  
"Gee, thanks, I think you're special, too."  
  
There was a grunt made at this. "Listen, rodent! I have no desire to waste time with your inane remarks. My uncle has taken it upon himself to visit and he makes my life miserable! I need you to take him off my hands."  
  
All Sonic could do at this was raise an eyebrow. "Say what?"  
  
"Do I have to explain everything to everyone twice?!" The voice had shrunk in volume to a whisper and had become almost panicky. "How can I rule the world if he's going to badger and bore me to tears every day? Do this, Julian, you're fat, Julian, you should speak when you're spoken to, as I did in the days of the Boring War, Julian. It drives a man mad." As if he wasn't utterly insane already. "He's a good hunter, so you could use him to get food or something. I won't shoot him, heaven forbid I even try, even if I wanted to."  
  
Okay, this was entirely too much information. Sonic came fairly close to actually feeling sorry for him. Although he still suspected some sort of trick in the back of his mind, 'Buttnik really sounded scared of this uncle of his.  
  
A smile came to his lips. This was going to be good.  
  
"Okay...and what else am I getting out of this again?" Sal would be all over him if he could pull one over on 'Buttnik, especially if it was a gimme like this. Tails would think it was awesome, too. At the very least, it'd be funny to see out. And besides, if - no, make that when - he got double-crossed on this, he'd bail before Robotnik could get out that dumb 'ha, ha, I got you' laugh of his.  
  
"Anything within reason. That I assure you. Just meet me outside the main building, and I will provide details. SWATbots will give you clearance." Well, he didn't expect the Eggman to follow through on that, but this was too good in itself to pass up anyways. What a story he'd have for Sally and the gang when he got back.  
  
"Heh, and just where are you going to find more of those? I just bashed them all to pieces."  
  
A slight rumble caught Sonic's ear as he finished saying this. It gradually became louder over a few seconds' time, accompanied by a lot of metallic clanks and clicks, and culminated in several SWATbots streaming steadily out of various nooks and crannies. Several even tripped over their comrades' feet and fell clumsily to the ground in this twisted version of one of those tiny clown cars with a million clowns in them.  
  
Apparently he hadn't bashed all of them to pieces.  
  
Now he was beginning to freak out a bit. Either 'Buttnik thought this was a sick joke or he was dead serious about getting this unwanted guest off his back. Whoever it was must be something else out of left field if he could bring a ruthless tyrant to his knees like this. Before Sonic could even stand defensively and think of an attack, one of the SWATs droned out the obligatory obvious assessment of things. Except this time, it was slightly different.  
  
"PRIORITY ONE, HEDGEHOG. SPECIAL GUEST OF ROBOTNIK. ESCORT TO COMMAND CENTRAL, BY ORDER OF ROBOTNIK."  
  
As if there weren't absolutely too many robots for him to plow through and so make an exit. Sonic took a deep breath and nodded, hoping that he wasn't dreaming this, or he'd be pretty miffed with his imagination if and when he woke up. 


	4. Prince For A Day

"Blast this wretched ribbon! Julian? It appears you're not alone in losing the battle of the bulge, hah hah! Would you kindly put yourself to good use so that I may fit in this wristband?!"  
  
For the last time, knock it off about the weight, Robotnik seethed to himself as he grabbed hold of the glorified belt's ends to try and fit about his uncle's waist. Of all the stupid things - why did Sir Walter insist on dressing up in a tuxedo when it was altogether absolutely unnecessary? Robotnik had explained to him about seventeen times that he was going to sit in the tower while they talked outside. Yet he'd insisted that things were done right, which meant things were done his way and only his way...  
  
"Master!" interrupted a familiar voice.  
  
"What is it, you - ahem, greetings, Cluck, what news do you bring?" And he couldn't even vent his temper as usual. The robot bird had been programmed to take abuse and not complain like a certain whiny nephew did, but this feature would go to waste since Sir Walter did not tolerate "temper tantrums," as he termed it.  
  
"Well, Master, the hedgehog is on his way."  
  
"Indeed," cut in Sir Walter. "And the sky outside is currently full of smog. Why don't you return when you have something less obvious to bother my nephew with?! Away with you!"  
  
Cluck muttered something rather nasty under his breath that Robotnik couldn't help but chuckle furtively at.  
  
"WHAT?!?!?"  
  
"Um, I said, sir, that you are a young buck, uh, that is, you look like one." Oh, that was most certainly not what he'd said. That was what Robotnik loved so much about him - unlike Mecha Sonic and various other drones he'd built, this one had a bit of loyal panache to him, which could even override the extreme tolerance settings on him. It wasn't something that he'd duplicate any further, just an anomaly that occurred somehow in the programming that provided a bit of entertainment.  
  
Hey - what if Snively had actually said that all these years when he'd been urged to speak up?! He was a dead dwarf when Robotnik found him again.  
  
"Oh. Really. Well, thank you, my good lad. I've been often told that I'm strong enough to be a third of my age, and quite proud of it, I am, if boasting may be tolerated in good company." Cluck began to tiptoe outside hurriedly, as the Eggery had turned his back on him. "Why, give me a tree trunk of 10 years entrenched firmly in the ground, and right as rain it's as good as uprooted. And replanted of course." His arms were waving about as Robotnik struggled to fasten the whatever-it-was, making the task a bit harder. "I'll tell you a word of caution right now, Julian, nature is something to be protected and conserved. The hunt is my life, but I will not wipe out the countryside. Just the brute I'm looking for and that's it."  
  
Robotnik had half a mind to forget the deal with the hedgehog and sic his uncle on him, as simple as that. Too bad Sir Walter would know the difference immediately between a rodent that talked and one that didn't.  
  
"You know, I've half a mind to plant some trees around this burg. It'll be good for your health, you know. This air is horrible, just horrible on the lungs."  
  
Trees. Health. Blecch. That was a definite signal to dump him on the rebels as soon as possible. How far had Cluck gotten without the old man noticing? Maybe he'd cleared the building altogether -  
  
"Sir! The hedgehog is waiting for you downstairs," an intercom buzzed. Then again, he was probably too responsible for that.  
  
"Splendid, that silicon sop finally said something useful. Well, I suppose I'll worry about this blight of a belt myself. You'd better go meet him, my lad. I'll be up here observing the proceedings."  
  
"Thank you sir." Robotnik turned to leave.  
  
"Now remember to stand up straight. And suck in that gut, as much as you can!"  
  
"Of course, sir," Robotnik hissed through clenched teeth, and took about three steps towards the door.  
  
"And for goodness' sake, don't you have anything better to wear?! Dignity is the key to diplomacy. Civilized in a civilized world, I always say."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know!" Two more steps.  
  
"Come now, that's no way to talk a fellow aristocrat. I'll hope you have better manners than that, talking to that young man downstairs. Why, he may think it's perfectly fine to behave boorishly in the court of the king, and..."  
  
Robotnik finally made it through the doorway, letting his uncle blather on, and jogged with an adrenaline rush of not wanting to get roared at. The man reminded him so much of a professor he had once in college, whom he swore just liked to hear himself go on for hours on end. Hopefully, he'd soon forget whom he was talking to after a while and just carry on by himself. That was what he used to do so long ago anyways.  
  
Eccentric old coot.  
  
******************  
  
"This is so freaky, this is so freaky, this is so freaky..."  
  
Sonic couldn't help but repeat the words quietly over and over to himself as he stood in the belly of the beast, surrounded by what were usually his enemy, and all because his archnemesis, a threat to life in the world as he knew it, wanted to ditch an estranged uncle.  
  
Sally wasn't going to believe him at all when he got back.  
  
And now the Eggman descended the staircase, full of pomp and circumstance, as the SWATs stood in formation and held their guns up high. In the control room the tyrant had just left, what he thought was 'Buttnik's new lackey stood by some controls.  
  
It was a mech chicken.  
  
Seriously. Snively ought to be here just to see this silly thing that had replaced him at his duties. That, combined with Robotnik's usual attire, and SWATbots, yes, SWATbots, saluting both him and Sonic with their laser rifles held up in the air like something interesting was going on in the sky...he was going to have to let out a laugh at some point. This gaudy display was too much.  
  
Now 'Buttnik made his way over to him, and the alarm in his head went off again, thinking the guy was going to try and nab him. Sonic waited tensely, looking for the sign to get moving, to take as many tin cans down with him as he could -  
  
"Greetings, Frederick! I see you are well after your exploits and had a salubrious journey?" Robotnik grinned, more politely than Sonic thought possible.  
  
"Huh? Frederick? What the - "  
  
"Ust-jay ay-play along-yay," Robotnik hissed under his breath. "Ee- way are-yay eeing-bay iked-may." He nodded towards the control room window a floor up, where Sonic could make out a figure waving one hand excitedly at him.  
  
Whoops. So the venerable gentleman was listening in? Okay, he had proof that this was actually for real. Sonic bit his lip to stifle a snicker.  
  
"Oh, of course, your Regal-ness. It has been a long, yet rewarding, uh...soliloquy."  
  
"You mean sojourn?" 'Buttnik asked.  
  
"Uh, yeah, I mean yes, exactly. I've learned quite a lot."  
  
"Indeed. Well, I must say, I have a surprise for you. It appears that you are not the only one to have returned from abroad. My uncle and a valued member of the court, Sir Walter Eggery, awaits you upstairs."  
  
"How exquisite. It would be my honor to grate, er, greet him." He felt like kicking himself.  
  
"Excellent, young Sir Frederick. Let us sally forth and have you introduced." Good heavens, was this what Sal had to go through when she was a kid? Sonic sure hoped not. Seeing as they were going steady, he didn't like the idea of acting like this all his life once things went back to normal once and for all.  
  
Then again, this was 'Buttnik. Royalty, he wasn't.  
  
"So far, so good," he heard his enemy whisper.  
  
"Yeah. When are we gonna talk about what I'm getting out of this?" It sure was worth asking. Sure, this would make a great story and all when he got back, but aside from that, he wasn't doing this for his health.  
  
"Shh! Not now! He can still hear us!"  
  
"Oh, right, sorry."  
  
Apologizing to Robotnik over something. Sonic's life had officially hit a new low.  
  
*****************  
  
Cluck adjusted his elbow socket and stood by in the control room, puzzled and fairly upset by the proceedings of the past two days. He wasn't programmed to take garbage from anyone but the Master nor allow it to waste space in his long-term memory, yet the old man had him the electronic equivalent of flustered.  
  
He wasn't supposed to become annoyed, however. He was a cool, calculating machine; the Master had built him that way. The lack of logic was a bit too much for the circuits, so rather than try to compute it and risk blowing a resistor or something, he'd just let it be in his memory banks. It was probably something he hadn't calculated yet in his couple of months of existence.  
  
At any rate, the enemy that was supposed to be a friend now - another thing that threw him for a loop - was ascending the stairs now with the Master at his side. Normally, his creator, also referring to himself as "the Great Robotnik," would rant and rave about strangling the entity referred to as a rodent, or doing something equally violent to this being. Cluck never really understood that either, but reasoned it was best to side with the Master.  
  
And that had been sufficient - until now at least.  
  
"Greetings, Cluck," the Master grinned. "Is Sir Walter appropriate for his introduction?"  
  
Warning: bad input.  
  
"Err..." he began. What could this mean? He was programmed to do something, anything, when given a weird statement or command, but this was highly abnormal. "He's dressed, if that's what you mean." Cluck eyed the rodent to make sure he wasn't going to do anything, and it responded by sneering back at him for a moment but nothing else.  
  
"Wonderful. Will he meet us here, then?"  
  
This too did not compute. Distressed, he responded with an illegal operation message that fit the situation.  
  
"Sir? I thought you couldn't stand hearing him talk - "  
  
"Silence!" was the hissed, barely audible command, accompanied by a slap across the beak that did not hurt but spun Cluck's head completely around on his neck about twice. "He can hear us!"  
  
"Does the great Robotnik have a scheme in progress?" he responded, equally quietly, seeing as that was how the Master behaved at the moment.  
  
"Yes, yes, of course! Open the bloody door and then you are dismissed! Don't come back or say a peep until I tell you to! Now buzz off!"  
  
Well, then, that was more like it. Cluck did as ordered, allowing the two inside. Perhaps he meant the rodent to die by some fiendish treachery inside? No - he had been angry with the older man more so than the rodent of late. It finally dawned on him what the Master intended to do.  
  
And he actually felt what could be described as glad about it. If that other gentleman didn't leave soon he would have Cluck carry sufficient luggage to short some circuits permanently. Plus the sheer disrespect from the man was beginning to frost said circuits. He didn't interpret either of these as good for his chassis.  
  
Perhaps he'd inspect a factory or two while he was waiting. Cluck lifted his plasma pistol off the control box in front of him, just in case. 


	5. Juvenile Meanwhile

Tails had been wandering about the room of the factory he was supposed to be sitting still in, bored out of his mind.  
  
"What's taking him so long?" he wondered aloud, dropping the normal precautions he had. Normally, the place would be crawling with SWATs and other security bots, but today they were gone and had been since Sonic left him for 'a few minutes.' An eerie silence had spooked him at first, but after nothing happened for a good long while, hiding out was getting old. Either Sonic was just having too much of a good time busting robots or something bad was up. Usually it was the former, and if it was the latter his idol usually could handle it on his own, so Tails had stayed put for a while.  
  
Then, after that while, he'd found some soldering and mechanical tools lying around, and tinkered with a security booth. An assembly line metal arm had just finished taking metal boxes from a conveyor belt it was supposed to be working on and stacking them in towers as high as the arm would go. There was also a camera he reprogrammed to stare into the corner it occupied instead of slowly swaying its field of view across the room. Oh, and also there was the lone SWAT that had been patrolling about on its own that was now stuck on its head in a magnetic junkyard clamp Tails turned on and played with.  
  
All because he was so mind-blowingly bored.  
  
"Enough of this," Tails decided aloud. If there were nothing around to get in trouble with, he would find Sonic himself. Maybe his hero had actually beaten 'Buttnik once and for all! That'd be awesome, and he rued it for not tagging along and then missing out. Everyone always got to do these cool things, while he sat around on his tails without providing any sort of real help.  
  
Placing the tools he had in the backpack Sonic had let him hold onto, Tails peeked cautiously around the front door out of habit. He began to walk in the direction that Sonic had gone, making his way towards the outside of the factory. There was a spycam floating around, but it never turned in his direction as it slowly floated towards a wall and thudded in it, trying to will its way through.  
  
The walkway made a fork and he paused for a moment, unsure which way his friend had taken. He was leaning towards the left side when a couple small crashes announced themselves from behind him.  
  
Why did weird stuff happen ONLY when he went on his own?!  
  
Jumping behind a pile of metal, Tails became alarmed. The crashes were followed by a few louder noises, bottoming out with a large crescendo of din that made him believe for a moment that the entire city was falling upon itself. One last clunk abruptly cut off this noise, and, after a couple minutes, he decided to take a peek around the pile.  
  
Oh, the box stacks he'd made. They were now lying in jumbled heaps. Great, now security would come rushing in. Or would it, the place was so bare of anything robotic.  
  
Tentatively, he tiptoed towards it, interested in the cause of his towers' demise.  
  
"Of all the - this is absolutely ridiculous! This whole day's done nothing but burn my transistors!"  
  
A metallic hand appeared from behind a box, grasping its edge as it pulled up its body. "Probably the work of those roboticized slaves, no less. They'll regret the day they messed with the Master's second-in- command!"  
  
A robot chicken.  
  
Robotnik had built a robot chicken and used it to replace Needlenose.  
  
Forgetting for a second where he was, Tails let loose a laugh at this. The city at the hands - of a robot chicken! Sure looked like chicken wings were outlawed -  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
Yikes. He shut his mouth and moved to duck back under cover, hoping this thing would disregard his laughter.  
  
"Oh, don't go hiding, I see you! Give yourself up!" The chicken's hand held a pistol and was aiming right at his face.  
  
Great. Just great, he fumed to himself. Now Sonic would have to rescue him, again, and Aunt Sally wouldn't ever let him do anything fun or take him seriously again. Nobody was going to ever take him seriously! Probably not even this stupid robot -  
  
Hmm...  
  
Well, maybe he could use that to his advantage.  
  
*****************  
  
Status: organic  
  
First description: Fox, juvenile, double-tail  
  
Identity: unknown  
  
Well, technically this character wasn't a rodent, but Cluck didn't know what to make of him. 'The' rodent, the one that Robotnik hated, he'd only seen alone thus far, without sight of any accomplice. This entity could possibly be friendly to the Master, or maybe a wanderer who'd gotten lost in here. Whatever the case, there were no commands yet given him as to how to deal with unclassified personnel, putting him in a conundrum.  
  
And Cluck's alarm system was still abuzz. He was patrolling this sector, turned a corner, and walked face-first into a giant stack of boxes that hadn't been there before. After the things had buried him alive momentarily, this guy had laughed at him. That immediately didn't sit well with him.  
  
"Describe yourself!" Cluck demanded as the fox raised his hands above his head in surrender.  
  
"Huh - ?"  
  
"You are unclassified and probably unauthorized. Describe yourself!"  
  
"Oh, uh...well...I'm lost. I don't know how to get out of here." The kid began to look sad, as if he was going to cry. "Please, mister, I didn't mean to laugh. It just looked funny with all the boxes and I'm scared. Just let me go, please?"  
  
"Er..." This reaction hadn't been encountered before either. The Master never cried, and had told Cluck not to worry about this reaction when describing it to him. The robot lowered his gun, weighing options and finally guessing with 97% probability that the fox wasn't a threat. "Well...fine. Go your way and try not to enter here again, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Cluck turned to leave. "Hey, wait."  
  
"Yes?" he responded over his shoulder. The fox's face had turned from sad to happy, something he was much more familiar with. The Great Robotnik was happy quite a bit of the time, usually when something he defined as good happened. Perhaps this meant something good was happening?  
  
"I was wondering, if you could lead me out of here. You seem to know this place."  
  
It appeared he was just happy to leave and wanted to get out. Cluck pondered this for a moment. Usually, he had more important tasks to do and would reply snappily as such. However, at the moment, the Master had told him to stand by, or in his own words, 'buzz off.' He was built for efficiency, so he computed that to do this would add speed to the workings of the city. This person would only get in the way of the city's processes and ought to leave as quickly as possible.  
  
"Affirmative," he finally responded. "There are no superseding tasks that would bar my assistance. Where would you like to go?"  
  
"Um, I came from, I think the west. Lead the way there, please?"  
  
"Affirmative." Cluck began to walk towards the western direction, passing by the fox. "Please foll - "  
  
The last thing Cluck heard before his back hatch was pulled open and his power switch turned off was the word, "Sucker." 


	6. Fun With Matches

"And suddenly, I encountered a flock of the great spotted yew nork, a most exquisite if brutish bird. Mind you, a yew nork can be very aggressive when it feels threatened, more so than your spruce nork or oak nork, so naturally we were beset on all sides by these fowl creatures. Hah hah! Very punny, if I do say so myself." Sir Walter sipped a glass of cherry juice as he prepared to continue at the dinner table. "But, right as rain, we held our own and took a few of them down. We might have been done for if it hadn't been for the blessing of a few tribal cats that happened upon us. Quite amiable and dependable, the cats of that region of the world. Of course, their manners are a bit atrocious, but one mustn't be so petty in good company." He finally took a breath of air, and shouted with a start. "Brrrumph! Good heavens, Frederick! Are you ill?!"  
  
Sonic had fallen half asleep in his soup, not quite getting unconscious because it smelled so bad. Probably poison, anyways, the way 'Buttnik ran things. Now he snapped to, broth dripping from his nose, and sputtered something that he meant to sound like "Um, no sir, not at all!"  
  
"You must excuse young Frederick, sir," Robotnik interrupted. "He is very exhausted from his long journey."  
  
"Uh, yeah, I mean, yes," Sonic spluttered, trying to save face. "I've come from a long and far away place that is, uh, long and far away." He heard 'Buttnik slap his forehead in disgust, and cringed.  
  
"You don't say? I do believe I know that region of the world," Sir Walter smiled. "You see, on one of my journeys abroad, a grand state did indeed send me to Longandfaraway, which is a little known part of the world also known as the Floating Island. Never knew they called it that myself, brrm hmm."  
  
Sonic looked in anxiety at 'Buttnik, who responded by rolling his eyes.  
  
"Indeed, a nice gent by the name of Locke there. He and his son introduced me to the greatness of some large emerald they really seemed to be fond of, although the blokes forbade me from any hunting. The chap, unfortunately, had to escort me from the island for reasons that I don't fully comprehend. Something about 'noise pollution' of some sort. I certainly hope to this day he took care of it all right." And off he went again. Robotnik had a look on his face befitting the frustration of coming so close and not quite succeeding in heisting that particular gem. Or was it the frustration of his uncle not putting a lid on it?  
  
This was starting to not be worth the joke.  
  
"And that is why you shouldn't send a machine to do a man's job!" Sir Walter finally finished. "They are so easily manipulated, as was the case I just described. Only dear Julian seems to create things reasonably close to being smart enough to do something right, in my humble opinion." A hopeful smile came to 'Buttnik's face. "Except for that loathsome Click creature. Utterly incompetent."  
  
"That's the closest thing to a compliment I've gotten from him since he got here," 'Buttnik whispered in Sonic's ear. Sheesh, no wonder he was insane. Not that it made any difference, he still had to be stopped. It was a good thing he hadn't brought Tails here with him or he'd be twice as fidgety...  
  
Tails...  
  
Crap!!  
  
He'd left him exactly how long ago?!  
  
"Uh," he spoke, "sorry to be stepping out so shortly, but I do believe I have forgotten a prior engagement elsewhere with my esteemed friend Sir Miles. More towards the outskirts of - "  
  
"Oh, Frederick, must you be going so soon?" 'Buttnik interrupted. "My apologies, sir, he must be on his way. Out of town, I'm afraid."  
  
"Pish-tosh, Julian. He barely got here just now. Don't be rushing him off."  
  
"Fortunately, sir, he's going on a great hunting expedition that you would most definitely be interested in." He was? "Yes, and if it's, uh, not too short notice - "  
  
"I'd be delighted!" Sir Walter exclaimed, leaping from his chair. "When do we leave?"  
  
"As quickly as possible, of course." 'Buttnik sure knew how to talk his way into getting what he wanted. "If you'd like, you can stay out as long as you want..."  
  
"Smashing!! I was beginning to fear that this place would be too desperately dull for my tastes. Very well, I shall dress and prepare, young Frederick, and we shall depart post-haste!" He stood up suddenly, and shook his nephew's hand, receiving a surprisingly appreciative pat on the back from 'Buttnik. "It was good to see you again, Julian, and I hope that I may return before too long. Tally-ho!" And with that Sir Walter strode out of the room to get his things, leaving a very befuddled Sonic and relieved-looking Robotnik.  
  
"At last..."  
  
"I guess this is my part of the deal?" The tyrant nodded at his response. "That was pretty smooth. Too bad I still have to stop you eventually."  
  
"As if you could prevail, rodent."  
  
Both chuckled uneasily for a bit, and then suffered through an awkward silence.  
  
"So...what's my part of the bargain? Anything I want, right?"  
  
"Within reason, as I said. But first," Robotnik leered, "you must get him out of my hair."  
  
"Or lack thereof?"  
  
The Eggman clenched his teeth at this. "You had best count your blessings, hedgehog, because I do not plan on calling a truce again," he forced through his pearly whites. "Now go get ready, and I shall contact you through an intercom. Be gone!"  
  
Jerk. After all these years, couldn't he just once give Sonic a bit of respect? It was just as well, he supposed. He was evil, wasn't he? Evil guys weren't cool usually. Besides, he'd been forced to admit - although he could handle it by himself no matter what - that 'Buttnik's underestimating him sure did help sometimes. Sonic shrugged it off and sped off in a blaze out the door, kicking up as much dust as he could just to tick him off a little.  
  
*******************  
  
"All hail the Great Potemkin! Give me your darned socks!" Cluck declared triumphantly, his head spinning in an other-worldly fashion. A gloved hand clicked his main switch off again.  
  
Tails loved hardwiring things when he could. He kind of wondered if what he was doing right now was necessary, really, considering this robot was a joke to begin with. Sonic would think this was so awesome when he got back, though. He snickered to himself for the millionth time from his hiding spot inside one of the boxes, opened up on one side facing the other boxes so it wasn't so stuffy.  
  
So far, the speech and motor transistors had been switched around a bit; now Cluck would speak and move before he could process his actions. What else could he make this guy do...heh heh. That was just mean. Maybe even this piece of tin didn't deserve this.  
  
Sure he did.  
  
Tails took out a wrench and began to unscrew Cluck's right leg. This was going to go where his head now was, if the arm fit the socket. Then the left arm would take its place, and the head would go somewhere else. He chuckled aloud. This guy was going to look sooo much stupider.  
  
The extremities came off pretty quickly, and fortunately were interchangeable. 'Buttnik must have been a bit lazy putting his artificial lackey together. Tightening the bolts with his wrench, Tails finished quickly and flipped the back compartment open again to turn Cluck on.  
  
"B-brrr-boracho pigeons!" Cluck said as he started back up, the leg attached to where his head should be spinning a bit. His head, now in his left leg's original position, banged the side of the box several times, declaring its admiration for the federal constitution of some country called the Islets of Langerhans.  
  
Tails leaned back and let out a big belly laugh, snorting a bit. 'Buttnik was going to be so mad! The robot continued to whirr around and spew nonsense for about ten seconds, and the kit managed to put a lid on his mirth in case some SWATs were around. He sat back and watched his new, improved version of Cluck for a while. Maybe he'd find some way to attach the plasma pistol the bird had, which was lying somewhere outside. The voice eventually began to increase in pitch, and the limbs started gradually building up momentum, moving faster.  
  
Okay, that was a bit too fast. And that arm came a little too close for comfort.  
  
Jeez, the way Cluck hit that wall looked like it would hurt a lot.  
  
Um...Tails decided to run for it.  
  
Bolting out of the open side of the box and narrowly avoiding being punched in the shin, he retreated a good thirty feet away and took cover behind another box, watching in dismay.  
  
The whirling dervish machine began to pound on the sides of the crate with increasing violence, making quite a few dents in all sides of the box before finally creating another way out by smashing his way through a wall. He started moving in random directions, cartwheeling a few feet one way before jumping up and slamming in another. So long as it wasn't moving towards him... Or was it?  
  
"You skirmishing brat!" Cluck exclaimed, turning his head for a moment to face his tormentor with a none-too-pleased expression. "I'll bless you with punches and sticks!"  
  
Well, it seemed he'd sort of overridden Tails' new changes to his system, not completely or even close to completely, but enough to have an idea of what was going on and have a tiny bit of control over what he was doing. Now the bird seemed to be heading his way at a respectable pace, still swinging and whirling in a manic fashion. Given this, and that there was virtually no way to approach the machine to turn him off, there was one logical step remaining, which he would now take.  
  
"Aaaaah!" Tails screamed, running a few steps and then taking off with his helicopter tail. "Somebody help!"  
  
Why weren't there any high ledges he could go to inside this stinking building? 


	7. Mass Times Acceleration Equals Problem

"Odds and bodkins! This is intolerable!" the Eggery complained loudly after the sudden stop, dusting himself off in his seat. Sonic had just run him and his transport full of luggage about five miles or so within a few seconds. "Why don't people slow down and take the time to do things properly! Rush here, do this, and so forth! The youth of these times, my boy, don't appreciate the time and effort it takes to put together a city. Although I must admit, this one is altogether disgusting. Hah! If you were only old enough to remember the glory days of fair Mobotropolis!" He punctuated this last statement with a leap from his standing position in the transport.  
  
"I am," Sonic answered bluntly. There were things to be done. Why couldn't this gent stop talking and get moving? They were walking only because Sir Walter seemed to insist upon it, and didn't understand about having to meet up with Tails before going back. And he wasn't looking forward to a lot of blather on the way either.  
  
"Prffumph! Then you know exactly what I'm talking about. My dear nephew seems to have been a bit of a nincompoop in terms of running metropolitan areas. Into the ground, if I dare say."  
  
"You got that right," the hedgehog muttered.  
  
"And of course, I see you are equally perturbed about this, Frederick, and I can't blame you one lick, hah hah! So, ah..." Sir Walter scratched his head underneath his pith helmet. "What exactly, is the nature of this expedition?"  
  
Sonic paused for a moment, trying to decide between keeping the farce going or telling him bluntly everything that was going on. 'Buttnik might be listening in somewhere and probably ready to try something dirty if he gave the truth away, so he opted for the former.  
  
"Well, I don't know if dear, kind, sweet Julian told you, but we are actually on the way to see Princess Sally Acorn..."  
  
"Indeed?!"  
  
"Yes, and she's, uh, running a bit of a nature expedition of her own out there. I'd say more but, ah, we can't have our invaded. It might disturb the wildlife if unauthorized people poked their noses in." Heh heh. Have that for dinner, 'Buttnik, wherever you're listening from, he thought to himself.  
  
"How exquisite! I never thought Her Majesty would grow up to be so naturally inclined! I will be most delighted to inquire as to your collective experiences. Very well, we shall tarry not a whit more. Onward!" Picking Sonic up by the quills on his head out of nowhere, Sir Walter hopped back into his chariot, placing the startled and angry hedgehog back down upon his feet.  
  
"Hey! Where you get off messin' with the 'do, Colonel Mustard!" Sonic yelled just as Sir Walter turned the ignition on his transport, which drowned out his response.  
  
"Glad you like the old gal!" Sir Walter shouted over the din in response. "I've been riding this craft for a good 15 years and the engine has yet to give me so much as a small cough! They certainly don't make transports like they used to. If only Julian were able to become secretary of travel, a path he probably should have pursued." The Eggery switched the transport's gears into something he liked. "Have a seat, Frederick, and we shall be off post-haste!!"  
  
Before Sonic could comply, the machine lurched forward and inertia placed him where he was supposed to go anyways, albeit in a more cockeyed position. Off went the transport to its destination, at a respectable but still slow clip.  
  
"Now, where exactly is this Tails fellow you told me about?"  
  
*******************  
  
Robotnik sat in a relaxed state, gloating in his central observation chamber. He'd just done something very brilliant indeed, a stroke of genius that enabled him to even impress himself.  
  
It turned out the old man was going to be of some use to him after all. Oh, sure the friendly pat on the back he'd given him was probably out of character, and the rodent might have spotted it anyways. Still, the homing device now sitting on Sir Walter's coat unbeknownst to both of them was well worth a shot. All they had to do was get back to Knothole, and then it would probably take about a day to assemble enough weapons and SWATbots to put the rebellion down once and for all.  
  
He turned and watched the tiny dot on his continental map screen. Bip, bip, bip it went, taking a bit of a detour along the eastern sector to go pick up that fox brat. Once they arrived, it would point in the general direction of Knothole, eventually arriving at a specific location.  
  
Yes, it would all work so simply and quickly, just as long as the hedgehog didn't notice the homing device, and he probably would be too busy honoring the stupid truce anyways. Even if he did, who cared? There would be a next time, as many next times as he needed. Oh, how he relished the moment of looking in the last Acorn's face and watching her see her foolish rebellion die.  
  
And maybe, finally, that'd show the great Sir Walter Eggery what he was really made of.  
  
Oh, where was Cluck? Robotnik wanted his personal assistant present to appreciate his glory and genius. He found the special intercom for the robot, and pressed the open signal button with a thumb.  
  
"Cluck," he barked, "report immediately! I wish to see you!"  
  
"Tibbles and bits, tibbles and bits, nothing cleans da-da-ditches like tibbles and bits!"  
  
What the -  
  
"Cluck, respond! What is your status?" Something better not happen to spoil his day.  
  
"Tails is the proconsul of roam charges! He asphyxiated my ginger s- s-schnapps!"  
  
"Make sense, you bucket of bolts!" Robotnik screamed, punching off the signal button and angrily clacketing commands into a keyboard with nearly enough force to break it. A spycam's viewpoint popped up on a screen, the one closest to Cluck's coordinates, inside a container factory. It was staring at a wall, point blank range. Useless piece of garbage.  
  
After frenetically swinging the spycam around for about fifteen seconds, Robotnik finally located his lackey - or at least, what he thought was his lackey. Cluck's limbs were misplaced and moving unsafely fast in purely random fashion, so that he resembled a sparking, awkward metallic tumbleweed. Entering a 'follow' command, he traced the robot's movements, and found that it was chasing something orange and flying up a bit in the sky.  
  
The fox.  
  
So that was what Cluck had been trying to tell him, trying to convey the source of his malfunctions.  
  
That little son of a -  
  
*****************  
  
"Help!" Tails continued to call out, trying to find either Sonic or some sort of ledge that the spastic chicken of doom wouldn't bash down to get at him. It seemed to be rotating faster, gaining on him a bit once in a while, and every time it did that he'd speed up as much as he could just to avoid getting run over. How'd that thing have enough control over itself to follow him so well?!  
  
He sped through another corridor, trying to avoid the various machinery and bric-a-brac that seemed to be sitting around just for him to fly into. What had it been, half an hour of flying time? Tails should be getting tired...  
  
No! He couldn't quit or he'd be pulp. Wasn't that just a great way to go, being mauled by a stupid thing that was a creation he half-made himself?  
  
Careening around a corner, he looked up ahead and saw the last thing he wanted to see right about now. What kind of person would build a hallway that just had a dead-end at the end and nothing else? This was going to be tricky.  
  
Running out of flying space, he turned in midair, and saw that Cluck had about fifty feet. It would have been a good idea to grab the pistol on the ground outside, wouldn't it? Well, it was there now and not here. Tails said a quick prayer of repentance under his breath as he held his feet forward, bracing for the impact.  
  
The limbs ran into his feet first, at such a velocity that he found himself running on top of the mess just to keep from being pulled under. Goody, a break. He started running faster and faster, moving his spinning tails directly behind him, until he was able to skedaddle all the way over the torrent, and go back the way he came unscathed.  
  
"Thanks, God, I owe you a good prayer tonight," he said aloud quickly, and zoomed back out the hallway. There had to be some sort of way to stop the monstrosity behind him, somewhere in the factory...  
  
The industrial magnet! Perfect! But it was all the way on the other end of the building, the breadth of which he assumed he'd just traversed. What if he got tired and had to stop before he got there?  
  
Well, Sonic would show up before then...wouldn't he?  
  
*******************  
  
"Tails? Where are you, bud? You're not gonna believe what I pulled off this time." After this initial boast, Sonic began to realize that something was wrong at the scene. Random metal boxes lay strewn about the factory floor, one practically ripped apart by some unknown force, and his friend was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Brrumph! If there is anything worth hunting in this city, m'lad, you best learn to keep quiet!" Sir Walter grumbled as he polished his plasma blunderbuss thingie of a weapon a bit with his sleeve. "Why, I remember my esteemed colleague, Sir Jeffery Stynkelstill, who had the most rare exquisite beast within his sights in the jungles near the Candes Mountains. He was forced to sneeze, and that lovely crested fezziwig heard it and ran for the hills, forcing his pursuit into a lair of - "  
  
Sonic left the rambling Eggery to talk for a bit, and began to case the premises at a relatively moderate jog for him. A hallway here, a closet there - Tails could be anywhere -  
  
Yeah, duh. Anywhere. He turned his view skyward to see if the fox had found a perch, but there was no ledge to be found. Crud, what if he'd wandered off? Man, he was probably lost and just wanted to go home. So did Sonic, for that matter. The day had been too weird as it was, and he had some stuffy aristocrat friend of Sal's family, apparently, to bring with him. Bailing 'Buttnik out, he'd decided, was no longer his idea of a good time.  
  
An ear turned towards the western corridor. He thought he heard Tails' voice for a moment, and listened again.  
  
"Sonic! He's after me!"  
  
Oh, great. Motioning at Sir Walter to listen, he was a bit surprised that the guy seemed already to have heard it. Tails' calls for assistance grew slowly louder, and some other voice seemed to be shouting stuff wherever he was as well.  
  
"Hark! Do you hear that, Frederick? Your friend appears to be in dire trouble! Well, as the great philosophers once said," he growled, pointing an index finger in the air, "a friend of my friend, is my friend! And the enemy of my enemy, is probably somebody pretty nasty indeed if my enemy hates him worse! Huh hah! I always did like the second half of that expression. Let us go, and - rrruph!"  
  
Sonic had grown tired of the speech and merely grabbed his new pal's hand as he dashed by towards the direction of the distress. Right, he'd have to go slower than the speed of sound so he could still hear Tails. Hopefully, Sir Walter would stop talking for a bit before they got to the scene. He hoped there weren't too many hallways to look through...  
  
"Look out, he's right behind me!"  
  
Well, there was Tails all right. He was flying directly towards Sonic, a panicked look on his face. But what was he running from?  
  
Sonic skidded to a halt, nearly losing Sir Walter due to his excess inertia as the Eggery fell flat on his face. He certainly didn't look happy when he flipped back to his feet.  
  
"Now see here, upstart!" he barked, waving a finger at Sonic. "Of all the intolerable -hrruph! Must you be in such a rush that we lose our quarry? Hmmm?"  
  
"Uh, actually, it looks like our quarry's coming to us."  
  
"What?" Sir Walter looked up just as Tails blew by, giving them about ten seconds to look at the - at some - what in blazes was that thing? "Egad..."  
  
"I claim this frog in the face of cold cuts!" exclaimed the sight as it did what could be best construed as stopping for a second. The thing seemed to spin and clunk in place, definitely rotating at a high rate, and uttering nonsense at the same time. It could be best summed up as...a possessed robot chicken -  
  
"Cluck?!" both hunter and hedgehog exclaimed in unison.  
  
"I am the prince of tides! Prepare to have brunch, Tonic the Eggnog!"  
  
"Ya know, of all the funny nicknames your nephew has for me, that's the first time I've been called that." One minute he'd been managing a few controls as Sonic and his enemy were having dinner, now he was doing this. Sonic prepared to spin dash into Cluck and end his misery.  
  
"Careful, Sonic! He's a maniac!" Aw, shucks. There wasn't any mechanical device that could stop Sonic the Hedgehog, and Cluck was no different. Why should Tails be so worried? He revved up a bit, gauging the distance at which he would strike...  
  
"I must say, Frederick, if you don't stop dashing into danger, it'll get you killed!" A big hand once again picked Sonic off the ground. "Your protégé is correct, that chap is off his rocker. What did you intend to do, rip him apart with your bare hands? Indeed," Sir Walter huffed, holding him at arm's length sternly by the quills off the ground.  
  
"H-hey!! Come on! We gotta stop him and this is how I stop things!" Sonic kicked and flailed helplessly.  
  
"Nonsense! You'll not be injured on my watch."  
  
Now Cluck began to bear down the corridor, menacing the three as they stood there arguing. What did this guy expect him to do, let a robot chicken of all things beat them all up? There had to be some way of taking it down... Looking at the blunderbuss held in Sir Walter's other hand, he figured he'd forget he hated guns just this once, grabbing it out of his hand.  
  
"What in tarnation? Give that to me! Have you lost your senses?" Sir Walter blustered, also seizing the weapon back with his free hand but not freeing it from Sonic's grip.  
  
"No time, m'lord, that thing's coming at us and we have to stop it somehow."  
  
"Give me that! Are you under the impression that my chief armory is a toy, good sir! I'll not murder him, even if he is an incompetent oaf!" And the two commenced to struggle over the blunderbuss, one trying to aim it at the monster that attacked and the other insisting that Cluck was sentient and could not be shot, Tails watching in horror as Cluck came closer and closer, his once-funny monologue now becoming a haunting rebuke...  
  
The gun discharged once. 


	8. Awry Yet Again

"I told you, he was a robot! He can be rebuilt! Really!"  
  
"Don't waste my time with your prattle, Frederick!" Wow, was that hypocritical. Apparently it ran in the family, too. "You've gone and used my family heirloom blunderbuss on a sentient being, and he literally exploded right in front of us in a gruesome fashion. Therefore I must place you under citizens' arrest until you are shown to the proper authorities. Mind you, I used to know plenty of policemen in my day, and I'll warrant that they're still around here somewhere. Good chaps, mind you, so go quietly and we'll see what we can do about jailtime."  
  
Sonic would throw up his hands in disgust, but seeing as they were already up, he decided on rolling his eyeballs instead as he trudged back through the factory at an annoyingly slow rate.  
  
He was being marched by gunpoint by Sir Walter, who had been convinced he'd done something very unnecessary and very immoral. Tails, meanwhile, was holding Cluck's severed head with one hand, tugging on Sir Walter's safari shirt with the other, and trying in vain to convince this quirky stranger that Sonic had indeed not committed a crime.  
  
"Now, back in the day, the policeman were always sure to make the town in tip-top shape. If Julian would only keep some around, perhaps it wouldn't be so dingy."  
  
"Oh, you have no idea how many he keeps around here," Sonic muttered.  
  
"Indeed?! In that case they have most certainly failed at their jobs."  
  
A spycam announced its presence by whipping around a doorway and bearing down on them until it was right in Sonic's face, almost as if it were taking a survey in a grocery store.  
  
"Well, here's one of them now, if you'd like to talk things out."  
  
"Ahrumph, I most certainly would." Sir Walter halted, Tails hiding behind him with a renewed dislike of all technology apt to chase people around. "Now see here - "  
  
"Shut up!" 'Buttnik demanded furiously. It seemed hiding behind an intercom with an engine and a lens brought some bravery out in him. That, and not having to deal with his uncle again.  
  
"How dare you!" A hand shoved the hedgehog aside and then whacked the camera in such a way that it now shook a bit because a rotor mechanism had been broken.  
  
"So, you think you can just destroy my personal assistant, do you, rodent?! Very well, that will be my side of the bargain...that, and about five minutes to leave before my SWATbots arrive to escort you to your doom!"  
  
"Ah, so you do have a police escort? Come now, it may be a capital offense, but there's no need to lynch good Frederick. After all, he may have had temporary insanity. Why, I remember a poor acquaintance of mine that went completely off his rocker - "  
  
"Enough, of your, stupid, stories, uncle!! I don't want to hear another boring story." A sniff and a snob made themselves heard. Was...was 'Buttnik crying? "Why do you always have to take someone else's side about everything? Why are you always naysaying everything I do?" The vibrations of the broken spycam seemed to make it commiserate with its user's plight. "Aren't I ever good enough for you? Did you have to break my robot? Did you?" Sonic wanted to vomit.  
  
"Robot? You mean Cluck was a programmed toy?"  
  
"I told you!" Tails piped in.  
  
"Quiet, boy! Speak when you're spoken to, et cetera." The kit shut up dejectedly, and then fixed his attention towards Sir Walter's upper back. "So, it's not murder?"  
  
"Of course not, you desiccated fool!" Tails spun his tails and floated for a few seconds, and Sonic watched him pick something off the back of the Eggery, who had an expression of shock and umbrage at what 'Buttnik just found the guts to call him. "Now I have to build him all over again. Why can't you just - "  
  
A blunderbuss blast put the spycam out of commission.  
  
"He was always a bit of a tantrum thrower, but I will not tolerate mechanical insults," Sir Walter stated, shouldering his rifle. "Very well, Frederick, I must apologize at calling you a criminal. Though, I must admonish, breaking Julian's things isn't very proper!" Tails waved what he'd picked off Sir Walter at Sonic. "A lot of effort goes into his creations, you know. Although that Cluck fellow was quite inane, if you ask my humble opinion. In fact, if it weren't for the immorality of destruction I would find it quite amusing."  
  
Sonic nodded, more out of knowing the Eggery wouldn't know the small, shiny thing had been there. Now, for one more fib to complete the whole charade.  
  
"Well, that's what Julian makes them for, for hunting purposes."  
  
Sir Walter's monocle dropped from his eye in surprise. "Hunting, say you?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, I mean yes, every last one for sport. Get as many as you can, that's the name of the game. It's just that, uh, he doesn't like the animaloid ones being hunted because, uh, he prefers those for himself." Man, Sonic hoped he didn't sound bitter. That wouldn't be him at all, and it wouldn't look cool either, especially to Tails. He could do anything he needed to, had always been able to, and people needed to see that at all times.  
  
"Really?! Well, why didn't Julian just say so?! This is extraordinary! Let us continue the game! I'll wager five dollars that I can best you in terms of numbers!"  
  
"Well, uh, actually, weren't we going to visit Princess Sally?"  
  
"Ah, yes, of course. It will be even more splendid to see her and her family again, as well as all your exploits." Sir Walter cheerily motioned in the direction of his transport. "And drop that ghastly head, young fox! That's one trophy I don't want on my wall."  
  
Tails let go of Cluck's head, and also furtively threw the homing device he'd found on Sir Walter's back to the ground, crushing it under his heel.  
  
****************  
  
Finally, Robotnik was getting back to the business of world conquest.  
  
It had taken him a couple of weeks since he shipped his uncle to the rodents to get himself sane and finish rebuilding Cluck. Just for kicks, he'd reconfigured the bird's personality so that he'd have a petty vendetta against the fox brat. No, the lackey wouldn't try to kill the tyke - the robot probably wasn't strong enough to attack even him - just steal his candy or execute some other self-assigned command to make him cry. And that would only serve him right for tampering with the great Robotnik's personal assistant.  
  
So, it was obvious that the rodent had found the tracking device two weeks ago, as he couldn't find it on his scanners. What indeed had happened to his cantankerous, bombastic, sickeningly good uncle?  
  
Who cared, really. Robotnik left that up in the air as amusing speculation. Perhaps he'd been tried for treason, and was sitting in some primitive cage spouting on about his epic clash with the Triple-Crested Hat of Doom or something. Then suggest a spot of tea. Oh, that'd go over well.  
  
Finally, the tables were turned. Perhaps the great Sir Walter Eggery realized what his nephew was capable of all along. Too bad Robotnik would never hear his remarks about it, or anything else, ever again.  
  
"Hedgehog alert, sector G-12," announced a spycam intercom.  
  
Gee, what else was new. He'd almost grown to accept his enemy's near- constant intrusions. Sooner or later, he'd make a mistake, as he did very occasionally, but sooner or later, his friends wouldn't be able to bail him out, and then...  
  
"Hey, 'Buttnik? Remember your loving family?"  
  
This taunt by the rodent was underscored by a couple blasts from a familiar weapon that Robotnik was none too fond of seeing.  
  
"Oh, what a gorgeous time! Julian, my boy? I don't know if you can hear me, but this is incredible, what you've done! Not only am I not killing anything at all with this game of yours, but the targets shoot back!" Sir Walter paused to audibly blast a couple more SWATs. "It's such an exciting twist, that Princess Sally allowed me to set up a bit of a lodge right outside the city. Frederick and I can hunt all day whenever he wishes, and I can drop by from time to time! My congratulations, Julian, on this outstanding entertainment!" Another shot, another robot downed.  
  
He wanted to ask where was that praise all the other times he could have used it, as his finger jammed the reply button. He wanted to shout at him that this was no game and that SWATbots were designed to be a lethal infantry and patrol force for his very real plans of world conquest. He wanted to curse him for being so stuffy, supercilious, specious, and downright stupid, not just for siding with rebels but in general as a person.  
  
"Thank you, sir," was all that could pop out of his mouth instead.  
  
"Ah, so you can hear me!" Blam, clunk. "You are absolutely welcome!"  
  
Robotnik was really going to dislike his life for the duration of this rebellion. 


End file.
